


Cut

by doyouhearthunder



Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: (if you haven't seen MH don't read this it's full of spoilers why are you even here), Arson, Death, Gen, Gun Violence, Murder, if you've seen MH you know what to expect, various other fun things in Alex Kralie's life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 02:18:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5988727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doyouhearthunder/pseuds/doyouhearthunder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A movie is just a collection of thousands of still images ordered together to form something with coherent structure, and in the best cases, meaning.</p><p>The same is true of a human life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cut

**Author's Note:**

> Alex Kralie narrates the highlights of his life.
> 
> (This is a brief one-shot I wrote a little more than a year ago. I figured my newly-made AO3 account shouldn't be left bare while I work on getting something more recent on here.)

“Cut!”  
I am laughing. Brian is making faces at the camera again, and while I’m a little annoyed by his unproductive behavior, I can’t help but be amused. Jay is trying to stifle a snicker, and even Tim is cracking a rare smile.  
“Something for the blooper reel, Alex” Brian says, flashing that shit-eating grin of his. They didn’t cover this in any of my film classes, I think. What To Do When Your Lead Actor is a Huge Dork. Still, I don’t mind the goofing off too much. It feels good, actually. Feels like having friends.  
“Alright, alright, keep it together, guys. You’ve all been doing great, we just need to get a couple more shots here and then we can call it a day.”  
My name is Alex Kralie. It is the summer of 2006, and I am making a movie.

 

Cut!

I am walking my dog. It’s a warm dark Alabama night, and the world seems quiet and empty and peaceful. So it’s a bit of a surprise when I round a bend in the road and see a man standing in the street. He’s a ways away, and has his back to me, so I can’t see him very clearly, but he looks tall, bald, and dressed in dark clothing. He’s standing under a streetlight, not moving, just standing there perfectly still, as if waiting for something.  
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find this weird, but hey, I figure he’s probably just a hitchhiker or something. I’m about to start walking again when I realize that something’s wrong with Rocky. He’s crouched, bristling, a low snarl building in the back of his throat, eyes locked on the man in the street. Then suddenly his expression changes, the snarl turns into a scared-sounding whimper, and he’s bolting back in the direction we came from. I’m so surprised that I weaken my grip on his leash and he pulls it out of my hand, running as fast as he can, and I have no choice but to chase after him. As I run, I glance back over my shoulder. The man hasn’t moved a muscle.

 

Cut!

I am running through the woods at night. Branches whip past my face as I run, a flashlight in one hand, a camera in the other. I pause to catch my breath, panting, and glance behind me. The figure is standing among the trees, watching me.  
“Stop following me!” I shout. I never see it run. I never even see it move, but it is always behind me and I can’t seem to shake it no matter where I go. I am hopelessly lost, and I don’t know which way is home, but I force myself to keep moving.  
Suddenly I break through the tree line and I see my back yard. Somehow, through some stroke of luck, I’ve made it home. I bolt to the door, fumbling with my keychain. I rush inside, locking the door behind me, and collapse on the floor.  
I don’t even have time to catch my breath before I see it outside the window, peering in at me with its smooth, blank face. My head is pounding, static filling my thoughts, and the world sways dizzyingly as everything goes black.  
When I wake, I am in my bed. The momentary relief of thinking the experience nothing more than a bad dream is undercut by the realization that I am fully dressed, with mud and grass on my shoes and twigs in my hair. When I eventually work up the willpower to leave my bed, I find a camera lying on the ground.

 

Cut!

I am in an abandoned mental hospital, and I am luring my friend to his death. He still thinks we’re making a movie. He never sees it coming, and afterwards all I can think is “One down.” But my lips mouth the words “I’m sorry.” There is static in my brain.  
This happens again.  
And again.  
And again.

 

Cut!

It is years later. I’m in a different town, a different school. I spend each day trying not to remember the past, and on occasion I sleep all night without waking. I’ve met a girl. Her name is Amy, and I love her. I think she loves me, too. She doesn’t know what I’ve done.  
One day Amy finds my camera, the one I put in the back of my closet, the one I meant to destroy but never did. I tell her to put it back. I don’t need a camera anymore.  
Seconds later, I hear her scream, and I know my life has just ended.

 

Cut!

I am in a drainage tunnel, killing a man. I am crushing his skull with a rock. My hands are covered with blood and my head is filled with static.  
I told him not to follow me.

 

Cut!

I am pointing a gun at two of my friends. Jessica’s face is filled with fear, and Jay…Jay won’t stop pointing his FUCKING CAMERA AT ME. I don’t want to do this, but I know I have to, and I am so, so angry. This wasn’t supposed to happen, this is all Jay’s fault. I am shouting this at him, and I am pointing my gun, and I swear I’ll do it, I will gun them down, this boy who wanted to help me, this girl who doesn’t understand why this is happening, any second now I will kill them both.  
Before that second comes I am tackled from behind.

 

Cut!

I am tied to a chair, and this time I’m the one with a gun in my face and a former friend’s finger wrapped around the trigger. I stare down Brian without fear in my eyes, and I know he is going to kill me. I will not beg for my life. Why would I? I may not know what death holds in store, but I know what walks this world and I will take my chances on the other side.  
I can sense it the instant it appears, and then Brian sees it and he is running for his life and I know that mine has been spared. Spared, but not saved.

 

Cut!

I am raising my gun, and Jay is staring at me like a deer caught in the headlights, and this time I am not angry, and I do not shout at him. This time I just pull the trigger. A bullet slams into my friend’s gut and I do not feel anything. My emotions are gone, replaced by empty nothingness. I am numb. I am distorted.  
I have one thing left to do, and then I can join my friend in death.

 

Cut!

I am pouring gasoline on the carpet of Tim’s house, and I am filled with rage. Everything that’s happened to me, all of it, has been Tim’s fault all along. I thought I was the one who started it, but no, he’s the source, and I’m going to make him pay for bringing that thing into our lives. He’s going to burn, and then my work will be done and all of this can finally, finally be over.  
I light the match, the flame ignites the gasoline, and the house fills with fire.  
I am standing so close to self-immolation that I can almost taste the ashes on my mouth.

 

Cut!

I have failed. Tim still lives; the disease will still spread. Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve been through, has brought me here. Lying on the floor of an abandoned building, my life slowly draining away. There is so much blood, and so much pain, and so many agonizing seconds between me and oblivion. And then I see it, standing over me, and as I take my last rattling breaths, choking on my own blood, I know there will be no peace for me in death. I feel a familiar static seeping into my brain. One last time.

 

Cut!  
That’s a wrap.


End file.
